


Hello, my name is Jared

by cillasstuff



Series: Security blanket [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Miscarriage, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:43:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cillasstuff/pseuds/cillasstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared makes the first step to over come his grief. This is a timestamp for Security Blanket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello, my name is Jared

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank walking_tornado for the awsomeness that are her beta skills. Any mistakes found are my own.

The incessant crying woke Jared, after a night of tossing and turning, so just as he finally fell into a peaceful sleep, Jared had to get up again. Too tired to move, he reached over to nudge Jensen awake, but Jensen’s side of the bed was cold. He must have been gone for some time, so Jared got up to check on the baby.

Moving with more energy than he felt, Jared jumped out of bed and quickly walked through the connecting door from their bedroom to the nursery. Sleepily, he flipped the switch, flooding the room with light and revealing that it was empty. Just like his womb. The baby only cried in his dreams. Jared’s baby died in utero at five months, leaving a gaping hole in his soul.

Jared clutched to his chest the plush toy sheep that he’d unconsciously picked up for comfort. It was the one thing from the nursery that Jensen hadn’t packed away, and he used this reminder of the baby-that-almost-was as his security blanket. He stood there, looked around the empty room, viewed the traditional pale blue walls, and tried to picture his baby there. He was a little upset because he could no longer do that. Now in order to visualize the nursery he had to close his eyes but it was still hard to recall. To help with his healing process, Jensen had dismantled everything in the room and had packed it away in the attic.

Slowly backing up, Jared made his way back to the bedroom and stood there, lost. He could go back to bed, but it seemed that all he did lately was sleep. He’d been so wrapped up in the baby that, when the baby was gone, Jared didn’t know his purpose anymore. Instead of giving in to the bed, Jared opted for a shower. After the shower, he grabbed the sheep and made his way downstairs.

Once downstairs, Jared heard muffled sounds from the kitchen and guessed that Jensen was there. When he reached the kitchen, he stopped in the doorway and observed the scene. Jensen was eating while reading the newspaper, with Sadie at his side. Sadie lifted her head when she saw him, just to let him know that she was aware of his presence. There was a time when Sadie would have bounded over to greet him with wet kisses, but because of his disinterest over the past few months, she just put her head back on her paws.

“Jared?” Jensen asked as he noticed Jared standing there, and Jared could tell Jensen was shocked to see him up this early, or, really, up at all.

He knew that the weirdness between he and Jensen was his fault, because instead of letting Jensen help him, he had retreated inside himself as though he was the only one who’d been affected by the loss of their unborn child.

“I’m just having some cereal and a cup of coffee. I can get you some if you’d like.” Jensen offered as though he was expecting Jared to bolt any second, and he hoped the promise of breakfast would hold him there.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” Jared agreed, wanting to say more but not sure what, but then he remembered, “You have to leave for work soon right?”

“Today’s Saturday, Jared,” Jensen corrected.

“Oh,” Jared said as he ducked his head in embarrassment. “If. . .if you don’t mind, I think I could eat some.”

Jared moved to sit in the chair across from Jensen’s and watched as his partner hurried to prepare him something to eat. He almost smiled at how Jensen turned his simple bowl of cereal request into cereal with fruit and a glass of juice. Once Jensen placed the food in font on him, Jared looked up and shyly asked, “May I have a cup of coffee as well?”

 

Jensen could not believe that Jared was joining him for breakfast; they had not shared a meal together in seven months. Seven months, three days and nine hours to be exact. When Jared asked for a cup of coffee with his breakfast, Jensen’s heart soared, and he tried not to put too much stock into the request, but it was hard. Jared had quit drinking coffee when he’d learned that he was pregnant, and hadn’t drank since because he’d been trying to get pregnant immediately after the miscarriage.

Was the request his way of telling Jensen that he was recovering, that he was making an effort to get past the loss of their baby? He knew that he was over thinking the entire situation; after all it was just a cup of coffee.

Jensen watched as Jared ate the small bowl of cereal and remembered a time when Jared would eat almost an entire box of cereal by himself. Now he was eating less than Jensen was. As he watched Jared struggle to eat the bowl of cereal, Jensen realized that this was the first time in months that he’d actually witnessed Jared consuming food. It was a start.

As Jared ate, Jensen watched. That’s it. They didn’t talk. The only sound in the room was Jared chewing, and Jensen felt something constrict in his chest. While he was trying to find a conversation starter, his cell rang, and as he picked it up from the table, the caller id blinked Chris’ name. 

“Hey, Chris,” Jensen greeted his longtime friend.

“It’s been awhile, and I just wanted to see if you wanted to do something today, you know get out of the house.” 

Had this been last Saturday, when he and Sadie sat around missing the man that they both loved, who laid in bed upstairs, he probably would have gone with Chris, but not today. Today, Jared chose to join him and, even if they were both uncomfortable around each other, there was no place he’d rather be.

“Not today, man. Jared and I are eating breakfast, I’ll call you later,” Jensen explained before he hung up.

 

Jared almost choked on his cereal. He’d reduced them to this: holed up inside their home, hiding from the world, and avoiding their friends. Hell, he’d even had to quit a job he loved because he was no longer able to function like a rational adult. Why was he deluding himself, if he hadn’t quit they were going to fire him, so he’d just been proactive.

He ‘d stopped socializing because he knew that all his friends felt sorry for him, and he’d heard the unsympathetic whispers, He acts as though he’s the only person to have lost a baby. If that was what his friends were saying, then he didn’t want to know what everyone else thought. Jared just didn’t think that his withdrawal would affect Jensen as well, that it would alienate him from his friends.

Jensen chose to stick by Jared’s side because he loved him; at least, Jared hoped that Jensen did. The smile on Jensen’s face, when he told Chris that Jared had joined him for breakfast, told Jared that, yeah, Jensen still cared. Even if he didn’t deserve Jensen’s love, Jared was selfish enough to want it. 

Jared really wasn’t that hungry, but he made himself finish the cereal. He ignored the fruit and the juice, in favor of the coffee. Jensen had prepared it just the way he liked it, with milk and lots of sugar.

“It’s time for me to take Sadie for her walk,” Jensen nervously told Jared after he finished his breakfast. “Would. . .would you like to go with us?”

He wanted to, he really did. With every fiber in his being screaming yes, he shook his head and whispered, “No.”

He’d hurt Jensen. Again. He could tell by the slump of the older man’s shoulders. The idea of coming downstairs was to show Jensen that he wanted to live again, but he just couldn’t take that walk, at least not yet. The thing he wanted to do was grab his sheep and run upstairs to their bed. There was no way he could face anything else today. He stood and watched as Jensen clipped Sadie’s leash to her harness and walked outside. Neither Jensen nor Sadie looked back.

In the quiet of the kitchen, it seemed as though the door slammed, but in reality, it was a slight click. That noise Jared knew was his guilt at what he’d let happen between the two of them. He’d broken them, and now it was up to him to fix them. He grabbed his sheep from the table where he’d left it, and he went upstairs to bed. He’d figure something out.

 

Jared was nervous and scared; he wanted Jensen, but Jensen couldn’t do this for him. To anchor his shaking hands, he held onto the cup of bad coffee. The sheep had been left behind in the car, but he missed the comfort he drew from the toy. He’d promised Jensen that he was going to do this weeks ago, but he only just found the courage to come into this room of strangers and talk about how it felt to have your baby reject you before it was even born.

Jensen tried to reassure him and to convince him that it wasn’t his fault that something had been medically wrong and that the miscarriage was nature’s way of correcting itself. Intrinsically, he knew that Jensen was right, but every time he reached down to touch his flat stomach, logic flew out the window. This was how he began, both to stop blaming himself and to bring him and Jensen back together.

Fighting the overwhelming desire to run, Jared sat there and listened to story after story from men who, like himself, had lost their child in utero. He wasn’t ready to share his story, but when the facilitator asked him to introduce himself, Jared stood up and took the first step.

“Hello, my name is Jared.”


End file.
